


Not Really Your Day

by safety_dancer



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 13:11:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4830296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safety_dancer/pseuds/safety_dancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today just wasn't Damian's day</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Really Your Day

Damian was not having a good day.   
It had started this morning at the breakfast table. He was reaching for a piece of toast, his elbow knocking a glass of juice and spilling it all over his new pair of slacks and down his shirt. He growled, snatching up the napkins and trying in vain to sop up the mess, but it was too late; the pants were soaked through, sticky on his legs.   
“Klutz,” Tim snorted, sipping his own drink. Damian threw the wet clump of napkins at him, ignoring the spluttered “hey!” Stomping to his room, he tossed the ruined clothes into the hamper. Today was going to be great, he thought sullenly.   
~~~  
“Hey, Dami!” Dick called out, waiting for the child to peer over the upstairs railing. “I need you to c’mere for a minute.”   
“Yes?” Damian asked once in the living room. He shot a glare at Drake who sat across from him, Tim simply rolling his eyes.   
“I need to go take care of some things in ‘Haven, and Bruce has a WE meeting to catch, so you and Tim need to–”  
“Whoa,” Tim interrupted, hands held up, “uh, sorry, but no. I’m not going to do anything with him.” He looked disgustedly his youngest brother, then back to Dick. “Nope.”   
“C’mon, Timbo. You guys need to just get over this…thing you’ve got, and hang out or something.”  
“As much as hate to agree with Drake,” Damian piped up, arms crossed, “and oh how I do, he has a point. I do not wish to spend time with him.”   
Dick looked helplessly at them both. “Please, guys? It’s just for a few hours.”  
“He’s fully capable of looking after himself, Dick,” Tim huffed. “I don’t need to babysit him.”   
“Babysit?”  
The eldest rolled his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face. “Honestly, cut it out, you two. Tim, you will do something with him, and Damian, you will not try anything. Got it?”   
The younger boys glared at him, then each other. “Fine,” Tim grumbled, “but if he slips up once, he’ll regret it.”  
“Likewise, Drake.”   
~~~  
Tim watched with a frown as Dick’s motorbike pulled out of the driveway. “Why me,” he muttered, glancing at the boy.   
Damian sat heavily on the couch, glaring at his iPod, trying to ignore Drake’s presence. Tim sighed, striding towards him.  
“Up,” he commanded, tossing Damian’s shoes at him. “We’re going out.”  
“Where?”  
“Skate park.”   
“What.”   
“Get off your butt and c’mon, Brat.”   
Damian rolled his eyes, but slipped on the shoes, stuffing his music player into the pocket of his hoodie. “Why are we going to a skate park?”  
“Because that’s where people skate.”   
“You–ugh. Whatever. Do you even know how to skate?”   
“Would I be going if I didn’t?” Tim smirked at the growing annoyance on his little brother’s face. “I’m not going to stay indoors with your sour aura suffocating me. You’re gonna learn to skate.”   
~~~  
Damian watched carefully as Tim demonstrated how to balance on the board, tilting the edge to roll down the dip of the half-pipe. He flipped up on the other side, grinning proudly. “Your turn,” he said, handing the board to his brother.   
Damian copied Tim’s stance, making sure to lean slightly forward to start the momentum.   
“Wait,” Tim said, “I think you should learn to just roll on it before you try the half-pipe.”   
“I can do it,” Damian stated, moving forward towards the edge. Tim shrugged, arms crossing, amusement in his eyes.   
The board slid down faster than Damian was expecting, and his feet flew out from under him. Landing on his back, his breath whooshed from his lungs painfully. He could hear Drake’s laughter, and gritting his teeth, reached for the skateboard.   
“Move,” he snapped, positioning himself for another go, slower this time, but with the same results. Tim was crouched over, laughing so hard he had tears.   
“Oh man, are you sure you don’t want–”   
“Shut up, Drake.” He would do this, even if it took all day.  
~~~  
“I will admit,” Tim said on the drive home, “that you did good on the like, hundredth try.” He snickered when Damian punched his arm, ignoring the pain. They had stayed at the park for hours, only leaving when it got too dark to see properly, and Damian had finally gotten the hang of skateboarding, even getting as good as to flip the board once or twice. Tim was impressed, but wild horses wouldn’t drag that out of him.   
Damian huffed, sweat shining on his forehead. “I told you that I could do it.”  
“That you did.”  
~~~  
Damian suited up for patrol, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for his father to finish getting ready. He hopped into the Batmobile, slipping on the domino once Bruce slid the top of the car shut, gunning the engine.   
The city was needy tonight. Batman and Robin were needed everywhere it seemed, and had to call in Hood and Red Robin for back-up. Damian rolled his eyes beneath his mask as he watched Red take out some thugs. He could’ve done it much faster, he was sure. He launched his grapple gun, but the hook missed it’s target when the old roof grumbled. Damian would’ve tumbled down four stories if Batman hadn’t snagged his cape, yanking him backwards.   
“Careful,” the man rumbled in the deep Bat voice. Damian adjusted the cape, re-firing his grapple. He swung over alley ways, scanning the darkness, dropping down silently when he caught sight of three large men backing a couple of teens into the wall, knives glinting dully in the dim light.   
“I’m really not in the mood for this,” he stated, flinging a batarang at the hand of the closest one, rolling his eyes at the shout of surprise and pain. “So let’s just keep this quick.” Launching himself at the next one, he grabbed him around the neck, swinging around and slamming his face into the wall. The man crumbled with a groan, nose busted and gushing blood. The third one withdrew a gun from the waist of his jeans, aiming at Robin.   
“Oh no,” Robin said flatly, “I’m so scared.” He easily knocked the weapon from the man, hitting nerve clusters and making the thug go limp. “Pathetic,” he spat, about to zip-tie the men when his head erupted in pain, stars dancing before his eyes. The perp with the broken nose had gotten back up, picked up a thin metal pole from the ground, and slammed it over Robin’s head. Damian held back a groan, shakily getting back to his feet. His vision blurred, and he missed the next swing, aimed low. He fell, his left leg feeling like it was on fire before going numb. Broken.   
The thug grinned cruelly, pulling back for another blow, but it never connected. Red Robin smacked the man in the gut with his bo, causing him to bend over, clutching at his stomach. Drake then slapped him over the back, and he dropped, out cold. Collapsing the staff, he offered a hand to his little brother, carefully keeping his weight off the broken leg.   
“Today has not been your day,” he mumbled, and Damian couldn’t help but agree.   
~~~  
Damian was in his room, leaning against the headboard of his bed, eyes shut. The pain medication had yet to take affect, and he tried to ignore the steady throb in his leg.   
Tim knocked on the door, opening it after a moment of silence. He set a small tray filled with cookies and a cup of tea on the nightstand, looking sympathetically at his brother. “Alfred said to drink the tea; it’ll help you sleep.” Damian didn’t answer, and Tim twiddled his fingers, sighing. “Ah, sorry for how I treated you earlier.”   
The boy looked up then, eyebrow arched, and Tim rubbed his neck, trying for a smile. “Are we…okay?”  
Damian blinked at him, face betraying nothing of what he might be thinking. Finally, he shrugged. "We’re okay.”


End file.
